


Afternoon Delight

by ashcat



Category: White Collar
Genre: M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-25
Updated: 2010-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:01:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashcat/pseuds/ashcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's a better way to unwind than a spanking?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afternoon Delight

**Author's Note:**

> For Daria234 for the 5 acts meme.  
> HUGE Thank you to lovefanfiction for her lightning quick beta and handholding :) &lt;3 and to hoosierbitch for her encouragement and hand holding as well!

Neal is squirming and bucking as Peter hauls him over his lap. Peter divests him of his pants and boxers, despite Neal's kicking and pushing at Peter, twisting against his thighs. However, Neal isn't trying to work his hands free of his shirt where Peter has trapped them, and he doesn't _really_ seem eager to get away, or Peter knows Neal would be free and out the door by now.

"Neal, if you don't hold still this is just going to be worse."

"This isn't a civilized way to handle things Peter!" Neal writhes, his voice hoarse from his struggles.

"Those measures don't seem to work on you." Peter plants his hand firmly on Neal's lower back, pushing him flush against his thighs. He grabs the wadded up fabric binding Neal's wrists, and Neal finally starts to settle down.

"But can't we talk this over?" Neal stretches out his fingers, reaching for Peter.

He strokes Neal's lower back, the back of his right hand, across the splayed out fingers, letting his feelings for Neal show through his gentle caresses. "Yes, we will talk this over, _after_ your spanking." Peter removes his hand from Neal's and places it lightly over Neal's mouth.

Neal exhales a long gust of hot air against his palm before beginning to shower it with tiny kisses, peppering the dry smooth skin and working his way up each finger. When Neal gets to Peter's wedding band he snakes his tongue out to lick it, kissing it open mouthed, getting Peter's finger wet.

Peter gives Neal's cheek a tap before letting his finger tips trail against it, pulling his hand away. "Thank you," Peter says quietly before he begins to rub Neal's pert bottom, the saliva leaving a shiny trail in his wake. Neal's skin is so pale that Peter's hand looks dark against it, like he's tainting the purity of the outstretched flesh.

Neal has a fantastic ass and Peter loves to spank it, fuck it, lick it...worship it just like the rest of Neal's exquisite body. He tenderly runs his hand over the dip, down to his thighs that are covered in the lightest of peach fuzz. All of this expanse of white will be red by the time Peter is finished. Neal is already hard, his thick cock pressing into Peter's thigh, and they haven't even begun yet.

"Anytime now..." Neal flexes his thighs, tightens his ass.

Peter gives him a hard slap in reply, his palm stinging on impact as it connects with Neal's soft flesh. As he pulls his hand back, he can see the bright pink print, already standing out as it wraps around the apple of Neal's smooth buttocks.

Neal jerks at the hit then tenses up, readying himself for the next slap. Peter leans down and plants a kiss right on the mark of his wedding ring, following it up with a firm nip. Neal relaxes in response, the tension draining out of his back as he molds himself to Peter's thighs.

Neal is always so sexy when he submits. When he finally lets go, lets his facade fall. He's falling so fast now partially due to the crappy, stressful week they'd had at work. Today, Saturday, is their first chance to sleep in, to be home for more than eight hours at a stretch. A chance to reconnect and unwind. It also didn't hurt that neither of them has had time to have sex, not even a quickie in the car, not with Elizabeth while home changing clothes. Neal is always eager to speed things along when he's been denied the joys of an orgasm for awhile.

Peter caresses Neal's butt and thighs, lightly skimming his hand over the flesh, just enjoying the feel of Neal warm and alive, here with him. When he speaks, his voice is soft, not the authoritative tone he used before. "I've missed you."

Neal turns his head and places a soft kiss against the cotton fabric of Peter's sweatpants. "Me too."

Peter lets out a soft sigh of his own, feeling some of his own tension leak out of him. It's amazing that despite spending upwards of 14 hours a day with Neal the past week, they both mean it. Neal at work is not nearly the same as naked, open, vulnerable Neal over his lap or in his bed. Peter nudges at Neal's thigh and he spreads them wider, revealing his neatly shaved balls. Peter starts fondling them, gently rolling each individual ball within its sack.

Neal starts trembling, sweat breaking out between his shoulder blades, on his lower back as he fights to urge to move or jerk at Peter's ministrations. He can't muffle a soft groan as Peter gently twists one then the other. Neal is breathing hard, his ribs digging into Peter's thigh on every deep inhale.

The crack of Peter's hand slapping against Neal's thigh sounds so loud in the wake of Neal's panting and soft groans. Peter grabs Neal's thigh, squeezing his fresh mark, massaging the tingling skin. Neal's answer is to gasp then moan, arching his back a little to get some friction for his weeping cock. Peter knows there will be a stain on his pants once they are through. Peter follows up with three more hard slaps, this time landing on both butt cheeks and his other thigh. A soft mewling sound is Neal's response, he flexes his muscles, the skin pulling tight and jiggling the pink hand prints decorating his flesh. Neal is starting to look like the masterpiece Peter knows he can create.

Peter waits, lets Neal shift, his fingers nervously feeling about, lets him wonder what will be next. Once Neal is almost to the point where Peter knows he'll start talking, start trying to grab control, he spanks him in earnest, laying down overlapping hand prints to the sound of Neal's grateful whimpers. When Neal's whimpers start to turn into moans, Peter hesitates. He waits a minute for Neal to realize that he's not being spanked before he starts fondling Neal's balls again. The change from pain to pleasure has Neal desperately pushing himself against Peter, his thighs trembling with his efforts. Peter twists his sac to the side, just enough to be painful, and Neal mewls in response. After a final squeeze Peter is ready to continue their spanking.

Peter delivers several more blows in rapid succession, not pausing to let Neal's bottom or Peter's hand recover between slaps. Neal is moaning and writhing by the time Peter pauses, his hands straining against the fabric trapping them. Peter can feel moisture against his left thigh. Neal's dick is like a faucet if he's been denied for long enough, if he's this ready for pleasure, for Peter.

Peter smiles, Neal's panting is like music to his ears. When his breaths even out Peter knows that Neal is ready for more. The next volley Peter delivers is more forceful. Neal's body is rocked gently against his thigh with every impact, each jolt punctuated by a cry of pleasure. Neal's thighs and butt are starting to really glow cherry red, and as he pauses he can feel the skin radiating heat as the red continues to darken. He doesn't want to bruise Neal, but he does love the way his butt will look later as he's fucking him hard against the dining table, seeing the imprint he's left on Neal as he plunges into him.

Peter gently pulls apart Neal's butt cheeks as Neal starts to fidget, fine tremors passing down his legs. He ghosts a finger over Neal's dark pink hole, tracing the edges then pushing on the center just to further torment him. Neal groans, and starts humping Peter's thigh, his desperation showing in the corded lines of muscles down his sweat soaked back. Peter lets go and begins to spank him in earnest, harder than before. Neal's body is rocking hard against his thigh, each blow sounding loudly against the background of Neal's frantic pleas for release. He's working his cock hard against the smooth cotton of Peter's pants even as he pushes back into the blows. Peter grabs a double handful of Neal's hot, red butt cheeks, kneading painfully, and ends with pinching both, the hot flesh turning white in his tight grip.

It's like an electric current is shot through Neal, he screams, convulses and comes. The aftermath of Neal's outburst makes the room seem unnaturally still and quiet. Neal gasps for breath like he just ran a marathon, body completely limp in Peter's lap. Peter tries to ignore the sticky fluid seeping through the already damp fabric to pool against his thigh. He runs his hand through Neal's dark curls, tugging on the longer strands, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the back of his head as he murmurs words of praise. Neal arches his neck to press his head into Peter's warm touch. Showing Peter that he loves him, that he _needs_ him.

Peter sits back up and lets his hand rest on Neal's bottom, loving the feel of the heat coming off of him. "So what was that about you wanting us to talk about this?" Peter smiles, knowing Neal will hear it in his voice which is mock gruff.

"I think we pretty much covered everything that needed to be said here." Neal climbs off his lap, and begins working his hands free. The play of muscles over his abs and shoulders as he twists and then tosses the shirt to the floor is both graceful and erotic. He gives Peter a wicked look, shifting to kneel in front of Peter's feet. "However, there is another matter we should discuss." He licks his lips and adds in an over the top lascivious wink.

Now it's Peter's turn to groan, running a hand over his rock hard cock as it tents the thick cotton fabric, straining to break free. 'The fun is just getting started,' Peter thinks as he stands to strip.


End file.
